If All Else Fails, Go Blue
by Peter Pan Z
Summary: A kinky look at life at Hogwarts through the experiences of a gay first year, Dean Algent. He may fall in love, he may learn magic, he may just sit on his ass the whole time. All I can say is that he's going to have a lot of fun. ~$Blue Mage$~
1. Gnomeholes and Gryffindor

  
  


Ok, this is my first fic and I thought it was very funny. I know there will be some people who won't feel the same, and I respect that. Please review me because I need the input. If I'm leaving anything out, remind me and I'll put it back in. Oh yeah, I have to write a disclaimer.

  
  


Disclaimer: This piece is an original work based on the Harry Potter book series by J.K. Rowling. I claim no ownership of anything written by J.K. Rowling, she created this series and deserves credit. I also claim no ownership of anything Harry Potter related. I am not a crook, and I don't intend to be. If I use any quotes from literature, movies, or songs, the name of the piece along with the artist will be noted. Don't sue me, please, I have given credit for these people's work.

  
  


Shoutouts to Gemma, Mr. Big, Cheesy, and all the pygmys of the world!! 

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\ Chapter One \ 

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It was a bright and sunny August morning. The sun was just rising and there was a light hint of dew on the grass. Since the sun was only just rising, the normal things that you would expect to see on an August morning were not yet happening. There were not any old men standing on the porch sipping coffee, looking for the morning news that the paperboy had conveniently thrown into the bushes, again. there was no young lad out mowing lawns or raking leaves, trying to find any job he could get to scrape up those few extra pounds he would need to take his girlfriend to dinner on Friday night. Just as there were no small children out waiting for the bus, their mothers waving them off and going back into the house only to realize that she had forgotten their lunches and working herself into wild hysterics, whipping through the kitchen at almots mach speed and throwing lunches together as she went. No, any number of things among these and infinite others would be happening on any usual August morning at around 8:00 AM, but it was closer to 5:00 AM and none of these things were happening yet. However, that is not to say that there was nothing happening on this bright, sunny, and early August morning. In fact, at this very moment there were no less that thirty gnomes running around the Weasly's garden.

"Now watch close, Dean. You just pull 'em up off the ground, then you do this," explained George. He had a squat, leathery gnome in his hand, and he began to swing it over his head by the ankles. When he let go of the litte thing, it flew at least fifty feet through the air and landed with a soft thud just past and old stump.

"And that doesn't hurt them?" asked Dean. He was a rather tall, lanky fellow for his age, so he actually was about eye-to-eye with the twins. He actually looked a lot like Ron, except for the hair. He had wild blond hair that was much too long for him. It was always getting in his eyes or drying in positions that were not exactly dashing. In spite of all of this, he never allowed it to be cut. The only way his mother could manage it would be to catch him early in the morning, still asleep, and perform a very delicate and very quiet shearing charm, hoping all the while that he would not wake up. Dean's parents, the Algents, were close friends of the Weasley's, and he had been left in their care until he started school.

"Nah," Fred answered, "they don't seem to care. You just have to get 'em really dizzy. That way they'll have a harder time getting back to their gnomeholes as quickly."

"And that," said George in an official, documentary-type voice, "is how to de-gnome a garden."

"Thank you Captain Obvious," Ron chimed in.

"Don't get to smart there, Ron," Fred growled, "There's still a few ton-tongue toffees we managed to hide from mum."

"Yeah, and it's be a real shame if one of them somehow turned up in your oatmeal one morning," George threatened him.

"You guys wouldn't dare," said Ron, cowering back from them, "mum'd ring your necks if she knew you still had those things. I thought you swore them off."

"Well, I suppose we could have just one last showing, couldn't we Fred?" said George.

"Yeah, I think once more would be just enough to finish with a bang." Fred replied.

"Whoa there, people," Dean chimed in, "don't you guys think you're being a little harsh with your brother? He's just making a joke."

"What, did you think we were serious?" asked Fred, chuckling a little to himself.

"Yeah, really Dean. We're just having some fun with our little brother, no feelings hurt."

"Maybe not your feelings," Ron grumbled, throwing one poor gnome about ten feet into a bush.

"Oh don't sweat it, Ron. You know we'd only give those toffees to Dudley or Mrs. Norris." George reassured him. Fred nodded in agreement and Dean smiled. Ron, however, was trying very hard not to be mad. Then, he couldn't stop it anymore and burst into laughter.

"Can't you just imagine that cat with a tongue bigger than itself? Ha ha ha!" he said hysterically. Within minutes they were all doubled over rolling on the ground laughing and hooting uncontrollably.

"BOYS!! Are you trying to wake the whole house up?!!" Mrs. Weasley was running out onto the lawn in a pink bathrobe and yellow slippers, brandishing a frying pan in her hand and her wand sticking out of her pocket.

"Don't you have any consideration for those of us who AREN'T insomniacs?!!" she yelled. "If you were at least doing something productive like de-gnoming the garden, it wouldn't be as bad, but no! What are you out here doing? I'll tell you what you're doing: YOU'RE MAKING IT VERY HARD TO RELAX!!!" and with these words she stamped her foot on the ground so hard that it was a wonder none of the gnomes came up for a look.

Then, after about fifteen seconds of cowering in fear, Dean took over.

"We're really very sorry, Mrs. Weasley. The boys here were actually just showing me how to de-gnome the garden, when Ron told us this smashing-good joke. It's that one where Merlin, the Queen Mum, and Nicholas Flamel are all on the train, and-"

"That's very nice, Dean, and if it's true I'm very sorry. But next time, would you please try to keep it down?" replied Mrs. Weasley in an exhausted, quite warm, motherly voice.

"Yes, mum."

"Yes, mum."

"Sorry, mum."

"It won't happen again, mum," they said with their heads down in shame.

"Well, now that's in order. How about some breakfast?" Mrs. Weasley said brightly. They all heartily agreed, and surrounded Dean as she walked back to the Burrow.

"That was amazing, Dean! I've never even seen dad calm down mum that quickly before!" Ron exclaimed.

"Yeah, we should keep you around more. You've got this stuff down." George said, patting Dean on the shoulder.

Dean did not know what the big deal was, this was easy for him. Then again, the ability to talk to parents and get out of trouble just seemed to come naturally to him. Like the time he set the Christmas tree on fire and convinced his mom that he was decorating it and decided to give it a little more "pizzaz."

"I hope you're really good at talking your way out of things, you'll need to with Professors Snape and McGonagall breathing down your neck." said Ron.

"Yeah, and not to mention Filch," George told him, "He and Mrs. Norris know almost as many secret passages as we do, and they'll pop up anywhere there's trouble, anytime." As Dean listened, a smile grew over his face.

_Man, this is gonna be great trying to outsmart that old coot and his cat. I wonder if Fred and George will show me those secret passages they found. Goddess, I hope I'm in Gryffindor! But I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be that bad, though. Ah well, I know I'll be in Gryffindor, both mum and dad were in it when they went to Hogwarts, and all of the Weasleys were in it, and I spent plenty of time with them. It's rather strange, but I can almost feel a bit of an evil presence.... but it couldn't have to do with Hogwarts. I'll bet it's just the fear of Voldemort, knowing that he's back again. I'm not quite sure that I'm happy Fred and George told me, but it's better to know._

__All of this raced through Dean's mind faster than you can imagine; it wasn't even long enough fot the other boys to notice his eyes getting glazed over, staring off at the lawn, deep in thought, as they started walking back to the breakfast. Then, Fred turned around.

"Hey, Dean. C'mon, you don't want to miss breakfast, do you?"

That snapped Dean out of it at once. He shook his head out and followed after them at last.

"Sorry, fellows. Couldn't help fantasizing about Hogwarts, you know," he huffed as he jogged to catch up, "hope I'll be in Gryffindor." he added.

"Of course you will, you've always been hanging around us and we're about as Gryffindor as they come." George beamed as he threw an arm around Dean's shoulder, "but you'll have to get used to having red as your color, unless you want to be blue with the Ravenclaws." This was rather an understatement, because almost every day Dean was dressed from head to foot in robes of a deep azure(blue), of a blue shirt and dark blue levis. And he didn't wear those loose-fit, baggy jeans; no, he would wear 501 Levis with a really good-looking belt. Nothing fancy, it just looked great with jeans. He would wear blue baseball shirts, golf shirts, or stretchy t-shirts that went well with his progressing muscle mass. Upon hearing this, he looked at his clothes as if to say "what?"

"Oh, don't worry about it, I can still wear these under my school robes, can't I?" he said aloud.

"Too true, too true," said Ron, "but still, it would be nice of you would wear some Gryffindor red for a switch."

"I suppose I could give it a whirl," Dean responded, "but blue will always be my color." he added at the last moment.

George clasped his hands together, "Good. Now that's all settled, why don't we go eat? We wouldn't want to get the old woman wound up once more, would we?"

"Wonderful work on that alliteration, George. I'm glad to see you're learning something." Dean joked.

"Well, you know. It just takes practice; and a very extensive vocabulary with lots of big words." Fred added.

"Enough dawdling! Do you boys want breakfast or not?!!!" Mrs. Weasley yelled from the kitchen door.

"Coming, mum!" they said in unison.

If Mrs. Weasley had been the only person up before, then the case was definitely changed now.

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\ End of Chapter 1 \

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Well, there you have it: my first fic!!!!!!!!!! ::jumps for joy many times:: Thank the Goddess it's finally over!! I hope you all liked it, I know I did. Please, PLEASE r/r, I don't care what the reviews are like, because I know it was excellent (that doesn't mean you don't have to tell me that). Thanks once again to Gemma for showing me ff.net and getting me started here. And don't worry, my newfound fans, I'm working on Chapter 2 as we speak. Once again, this was really fun and I won't be stopping anytime soon.

Bye4Now,

~$$Blue Mage$$~


	2. Breakfast at Florean's

And now, introducing, for the first time anywhere: The Maybe A Little Bit Awaited but Long in Progress Chapter Two!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaay!! I'm sorry this took a while to get here, but I've had to juggle school and dance and many other things as well as jotting down a few paragraphs at a time of this, so don't blame me, blame my teachers! But enough mindless chattering; down to business. First off I'd like to apologize to anyone that found me big-headed after all of that boasting at the end of the last chapter. I was merely expressing my enthusiasm and trying to think positively about my work. However, I was rather disappointed that I only had one review, two if you count my author note/review, so pleeeeeeeeeese r/r this time. I reeeeeeeeeeealllllly want some input, or even pats on the back, or even pointing out my typos or something. Please do this for me, it would mean a lot to me. :: kneels on ground and begs, stands up and brushes legs off :: Whew, now that we're done with that, I think it's time for the disclaimer.  
  


Disclaimer: This piece is an original work based on the Harry Potter book series by J.K. Rowling. I claim no ownership of anything written by J.K. Rowling, she created this series and deserves credit. I also claim no ownership of anything Harry Potter related. I am not a crook, and I don't intend to be. If I use any quotes from literature, movies, or songs, the name of the piece along with the artist will be noted. Don't sue me, please, I have given credit for these people's work.  


Rating: PG-13 for slight homosexual innuendo.  


Shoutouts go to Gemma, Cheesy, Mr. Not-So-Big-Anymore, The Lord of the Niblets, and all the pygmies of the world!!  
  


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\ Chapter 2 \

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The bustling crowd that was the Weasleys' kitchen contained both Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, arguing whether seasoned potatoes were better than hash browns; Percy and Ginny, debating whether she would become a prefect ("But I'm not comfortable with authority positions," "But don't you want to help your fellow students, especially the new first years?"); and then the "gnome squad" came trooping into the middle of it.

"Well look who it is. I hope you boys are happy you've woken the whole house." Mrs. Weasley growled as she looked up from her eggs.

"Oh give them a break, dear. I'm sure they're sorry, and it's not like we couldn't use an early rousing once in a while," Mr. Weasley said, winking to the boys. She just looked at him, sighed, and went back to her eggs.

Breakfast carried on as usual. Mrs. Weasley had extraordinarily outdone herself this morning. She made no less than two dozen eggs to order; multitudinous slices of bacon; numerous sausage links; seasoned breakfast potatoes; enormous buttermilk pancakes; and sourdough toast with almost every type of jam, preserves, and marmalade.

"This food is just divine, Mrs. Weasley. I'd give it a 9 ½ out of 10. The only drawback was, well,... I'm kind of ashamed to say it, but, you didn't have blueberries on the pancakes." Dean said sheepishly. The entire table chuckled a bit, and Fred said, "Well, that's no surprise coming from you, you didn't eat one piece of toast without smothering it in blueberry marmalade. And you suggested that we turn the milk blue." Everyone at the table chuckled a little, while Dean looked at them and shrugged.

"What, can't a guy have an opinion about colors?" he said.

"We never said you couldn't, but can't you let us have a little fun with you?" asked Fred.

"Yeah, Dean. I mean, if Fred and George don't insult five people ten times a day, they're dead." Ron said.

"Yeah, what he said Dean," George said as he grabbed Ron in a headlock, "ain't that right, lanky?"

"Geroff me, George! Come on, we made our point!" he choked out.

"Yeah, so? What's that got to do with a noogie?" he said, and proceeded to noogie Ron until Mrs. Weasley jumped up.

"Fred Weasley!" she bellowed, "there will be no roughousing at the breakfast table, understood?"

"Yes mum," he said, letting Ron go, puffing and wheezing into his now cold scrambled eggs.

"Now I think we can all have a civilized breakfast, don't you?" she said, just as Fred flicked a spoonful of blueberry marmalade right into Dean's face.

"Well, I guess you got your blue after all," he said.

"FRED WEASLEY!!! Did I not just ask for a civilized breakfast?!! Fine, you boys will do the dishes today!"

Breakfast concluded in an almost less than civilized manner. Everyone was completely silent, and if any of the boys coughed, Mrs. Weasley shot them a look of pure venom, as if daring them to make a bigger noise. After everyone had had their fill, she reminded the boys that they had to clean the dishes. They agreed to this sulkily, and George was just on the verge of putting a scrubbing charm on the dishes when Mrs. Weasley shouted to him:

"Don't you dare use magic, or I'll have your heads! And in front of our guest, too. Imagine if you had showed him how to do that. Had you thought of that? He'd never even see Hogwarts, let alone go there as a student, if he used magic now! I can't even imagine what his parents would say to me if they knew that MY sons had single-handedly deprived him the opportunity of a proper magical education!"

Of course, the boys had not thought of that, and might have shown Dean how if they had not been yelled at.

"Oy, Dean. You never told us about your first trip to Diagon Alley." George instinctively changed the subject.

"Oh, I didn't know you wanted to know." he said.

He then proceeded to tell them about his trip, and the whole of it goes something like this:

  
  


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It had been a cloudy day, very cool and threatening to rain (the best kind of day in Dean's opinion), when Dean's parents had taken him to Diagon Alley for his school supplies. Dean had been begging them to take him since the day he had received his Hogwarts letter, and they finally caved after the first week.

"Alright, Dean! Alright! We'll take you to Diagon Alley if you will just stop pestering us!"

"Why, thank you mother. If you had just agreed in the first place, though, you could have saved yourselves from a multitude of bother and pestering," Dean said sweetly.

"Dean, please don't try my patience now. Be happy that we're taking you," Mrs. Algent said, barely louder than a whisper. Like all mothers, the had the ability to hold her child's attention with a slight change of her tone. She was a stately woman, very prim and proper. Around guests, that is. However, it was amazing how different she could be from her public image when she was at home. Around the house and her family she was quite laid back, and unless she was doing housework, you would rarely find her not stretched out on the sofa or bed; a box of tissues next to her; their kitten, Teagrey, sprawled over her stomach; and a romantic novel or sappy love story in her hands. But put her in a room with respectable members of the magical community, it would be: "Ah, hello Anna!" "My! What lovely robes, Mr. Peters." and so on, and other compliments of that nature. She was very good at getting on someone's good side, at least in her mind. To the wizarding community, she was just another member of a less-than-wealthy family, who was looking for a way to get involved with the "upper class." But since she did no real harm, they allowed her to feel accepted, and invited her to parties and social events.

Because of these reasons, the Algents were neither well-off, nor poverty-stricken. They managed to slide through life with the occasional loan or debt to pay off, but they were able to provide themselves with nice things for the most part.

The family had decided to get a room at the Leaky Cauldron in advance and stay for a night or two. Once their overnight- bags were packed, Mr. Algent grasped their bag of Floo Powder from the mantle while his wife lit the fire. She grabbed a pinch of powder, threw it into the flames and stepped in saying, "Diagon Alley!" She was gone.

"You're up, son," said Mr. Algent, holding out the bag.

"Right, then. Okay," and he grabbed a pinch of powder, threw it into the fire, and shouted, "Diagon Alley!"

As he stepped into the fire a rush of wind hit him, and he felt himself spinning very quickly. He tucked in his elbows and concentrated on a fireplace in front of him.

He toppled right out into the middle of the Leaky Cauldron, and barely managed to keep his balance.

"Over here, Dean! Hurry up!"

He looked around for his mother and found her at a doorway to what looked like a nice, quiet room.

"Oh do come on! I want you to meet some people."

Oh great, now I have to meet someone. I do hope father doesn't freak out that we're not waiting for him. Ah, well. I'm sure he knows his way around, he'll be fine. I wonder who mother found in a place like this. You never know, maybe she met another family for Hogwarts. Oh I wonder if they have a son... that would be soooo nice to meet a guy before even getting to school! But if they have a daughter, then I'll have a girlfriend to hang around and gossip with. Oh, geez, Hogwarts is going to be so much fun!!

"It's about time. Hmph, anyway. Dean, I'd like you to meet Mrs. Rochelle,"

"Hello."

"Enchante," Dean said as he shook her hand.

"Oh, the pleasure is all mine."

"And this is her daughter, Laura."

Mrs. Rochelle directed a nervous-looking girl from her side toward Dean. She was a bit shorter than Dean, and a bit thinner, too. But otherwise, the two seemed remarkably alike: they both had blond hair, and hers had a little curl and spring to it; they were both built the same, tall and thin; and their eyes were both blue but hers had a slight tinge of purple.

Wow!! Total knockout! Man, this is the kinda girl that almost makes you wish you were straight. Almost! But wow, and she looks so like me, too! I can tell I'll be friends with this one.

"Enchante," said Dean, as he held out his hand.

"Pleased to meet you, Dean."

"Well, children, I think it would be easiest if we left you two with a bit of pocket change and leave the shopping to us," Mrs. Rochelle said, half to Dean's mother and half to them.

"Yes, I think that would be the best idea, and, oh. I do believe my Harold has meet up with your husband. Yes. Hello darling!" said Mrs. Algent as she waved to her husband, "ok Dean, I'll give you... I think three galleons ought to do it, don't you? Right, then. Here you are, now you two go and have fun. You might try Florean's for some sundaes. I'll come find you when I need to, alright? Good."

"Yes, alright mum. Don't worry, we'll be fine. It would be kinda hard to get lost in Diagon Alley, y'know?"

"Well ok, fine. Come on Angela, we'd better hurry if we want to get everything." And with that, they were off.

"So..., you wanna go get some ice cream?" Dean asked Laura. They were both standing in the middle of the room, she swaying nervously.

"Wha,..oh...sure, okay." she replied as she seemed to snap out of a trance. Dean felt that, at this moment, she would do whatever he asked without a second glance, and that any other man in his position would jump at this opportunity. Once again he almost thought it might be nice to go straight, almost.

"Let's be off, then." he said and offered an arm. She wrapped her hand around it and allowed him to lead her to the back of the Leaky Cauldron, where they asked a nice old witch to open the passage for them. Dean took note of the brick that she tapped: three up and two across, and they stood witness to all of its splendor.

Wow! This place is amazing! It's even better than Fred and George said.

He stood in awe of the utter magnificence of the wonderful little treasure tucked away right here in the middle of London, and when he looked over at Laura, he noticed that she was just as amazed as he was.

"Wow! Mother never told me it was this...alive." she said as her eyes roamed from Flourish and Blotts to Florean Fortesque's, and then from Eyelops Owl Emporium to the humongous Gringotts bank.

"Ehhm...so, ya wanna go get some sundaes?" Dean asked Laura.

"Oh,...um sure. Let's go."

They made their way up to the counter and were greeted by a nice middle-aged wizard that could only be Florean Fortesque, and he asked them what they would like.

"I think I'll have sweet cream with strawberry syrup, and a cherry on top." Laura said confidently.

"Yes...sweet cream,..syrup, cherry. And you, sir?" he asked Dean.

"Well there's nothing I like more than a healthy helping of cream, but I think I'll go with rocky road today, and extra pecans, please. I can't help myself, I just love nuts." (I apologize if anyone was offended. If you didn't understand, take into consideration that Dean is a homosexual. Thank you)

"All right, then...rocky road, extra pecans. Coming right up." then he scooped up their orders and motioned them over to the cash register.

"That'll be ten sickles five." he said, and Dean handed the man ten sickles and five knuts.

"Thank you sir."

"Yes, thank you." and then Dean and Laura went outside to a table.

They sat silent for a few moments, eating their ice cream, when Dean said, "So, what's your family like?"

"Well,...my father works a lot, so I don't see him much. When I do see him he's usually exhausted and irritable, so we don't talk much." Dean put on a compassionate face. "But my mother stays home with me and my sister, she's in sixth year. What's your family like?"

"My family? Well they're pretty cool. My mom really likes romance novels. You know Annus Letterfy has a new book out, she bought it, naturally; it's calledThe Love Potion of Fece," he said, getting quieter, as if it were a good secret, "it's about a witch and a wizard united by a common goal, and they fall in love overcoming many very dangerous encounters with a great evil."

As he spoke in this mysterious manner, he noticed Laura's eyes becoming glazed over, staring into his, softly, warmly.

Damn, there it goes again. What is it with this girl, I've never let a girl get to me like this before. This is too weird, I can tell she likes me, but it's gonna break her heart when she finds out I'm gay. (Of course Dean never told anyone what he was thinking that day.)

He sat up awkwardly and cleared his throat, and he noticed her seem to come out of a trance.

"Well,...yeah, my mom loves those romance novels. My dad, well he works a lot, too, but I get to see him on the weekends when we go to museums or to the symphony. We have fun together." Dean was about ready to wrap things up with Laura, she was starting to get to him mentally. Just then, as if answering his prayers, their mothers came strolling up and went to get Laura's father for dinner.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, Dean." Mrs. Rochelle said.

"Yes, Dean. A pleasure. See you at school." Laura said, and Dean could have sworn he had seen her wink at him.

"P-pleasure was all mine. At school, then." he stammered. His mother then guided him toward Ollivander's.

"Here, honey. Take this money and get yourself a good wand. I'm going to grab a bite and read some more of The Love Potion of Fece. Come find be when you're done. Bye."

She walked away and left Dean in front of the shop. It was now that time just between afternoon and evening when it gets very difficult to see, almost hazy from lack of proper light, and since the wand shop was comfortably lit, he went inside eagerly.

As he entered the store, he heard a faint bell ringing somewhere in the back of the store. He looked around and saw the shelves upon shelves of long, thin boxes. Some were relatively new, while others looked like they would fall apart before you could open them. There seemed to be no end to the shelves or the shop, and he was just thinking that it could be bewitched to be immense in a small space when Mr. Ollivander himself swooped in from the dark depths of the back (if there was a back) of the shop.

"Ahh, Dean Algent. I figured you would come to see me soon. Ah, yes! You've already gotten the rest of your Hogwarts things, I see. I hear one of the books this year was written by that best-selling romance novelist, Annus Letterfy, I believe. He is certified in the dark arts, you know, as well as being a wonderful writer. Yes he writes the perfect story, he does. Then I suppose we will have to get you the perfect wand, won't we?" He smiled and winked at Dean as he swept through the aisles and corridors, looking for a good wand.

Wow. I never knew that novelist was certified in the, wait,...the dark arts. I think Fred and George said something about having a different Defense against the Dark Arts teacher every year, and if he wrote the material...I'll bet he's our new teacher. Huh, well that should be an experience.

"Now then Mr. Algent, I think this one could be right for you: Ash, six-and-a-quarter inches; firm, but supple."

Dean was hoping to be in and out of the shop relatively quickly, he wanted to see about that new course book, when he took hold of the wand firmly. Alas, his first try proved useless. Mr. Ollivander put the wand back in it's box and put it up on another stack of boxes.

"No worries, no worries. We'll find the perfect one, just wait and see."

This time he came back with a shiny leather box, it looked rather new.

"Here, this is one of my newer models: Mahogany; eleven inches exactly; with three unicorn hairs. That unicorn was quite a strong young one, a bit tough to get it out of him; but try it, nonetheless."

Dean held the wand lightly in his left hand and waved it around. Mr. Ollivander all but snatched it away from Dean.

"Ach, no! This one isn't yours, either. Just wait right there, I believe I know what to do."

He glided behind the counter and came back with a small measuring tape in his hand.

"I must be getting older. I forgot to measure you when you came in. I must admit, though, when you came in I was a mite confused. A strapping young lad like yourself should not seem so tense, but you do, my boy, you do."

As he spoke he was going through the rows of wands, he had since left the measuring tape to finish the uncanny parts like between the nostrils and from the eyebrows to the scalp line on its own.

"That will do!" he snapped his fingers and the tape crumpled to the floor. He then disappeared into the dark back of the shop again.

It seemed to Dean that he was standing there waiting for ages, thinking about Hogwarts, and the novelist/teacher, and most of all Laura. He was just about ready to sit down on the floor and relax, when Mr. Ollivander swept through the rows and stood before him, eyes flickering nervously.

"This wand, Mr. Algent, is one that I never expected to part with. This was one of my first, the first wand to ever contain a dragon heartstring. I must admit, I myself was impressed when it was completed, but still, I never expected such enthusiasm even from it. I will tell you, that when I passed this wand, it nearly fell off of its shelf. It could sense that its true owner was here, of that I have no doubt, and now I must ask you something," up until now he had been speaking barely above a whisper, but now changed to a normal tone, "Will you try it?"

"...Y-yes, I will try."

Dean was naturally a bit querulous when he stepped toward Mr. Ollivander, and he was actually thinking, "I wish I could just go home and forget all of this strange stuff," when before he knew it he had the wand in his left hand, and felt an incredible surge of energy, a tingling feeling spreading from the tips of his fingers up his arm and from his toes to the ends of his hair. He raised the wand, all of his fears gone, and brought it down with a confident swish, producing a large cloud of smoke that formed the shape of a dragon in midair, before it reared its head and dissipated.

"Bravo! Bravo! Well done, Mr. Algent!" mr. Olliander praised as he applauded, "Now let me ring that up for you. Ahh, yes. I truly am pleased that this wand has finally found its owner. I almost thought that it would be here longer than me. At fourteen-and-a-quarter inches they usually become quite whippy, but being made of this sturdy redwood it will be sure to last you a long time, and still keep its springy personality. Now, you take care of that wand, I will be expecting to hear good things about you two. Oh, dear! Look at the time! Your mother will be wondering where you've gotten to I expect. Better be off, then."

"Goodbye Mr. Ollivander! And thank you." Dean said as he walked out of the dark little shop and made his way toward the Leaky Cauldron, where, in fact, his mother was waiting for him, smiling proudly.

"Well, how did it go? Did you get a good wand?"

His mother greeted him with open arms and brought him up to their room, listening intently to the story.

"So it was really the first wand with a dragon heartstring? I always thought that dragon wands were a bit, well, edgy. But this isn't just another dragon wand, is it?" she said excitedly while pouring them some tea. Just as she was asking Dean how much sugar, Mr. Algent burst into the room, eyes blazing.  
  


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\ End Chapter 2 \

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Well there it is: finally done. I'm sorry it took so long, but school is a killer on time. I expect a little less time for the next chapter, but no promises. Pleeeeeez r/r, I like to see the little review indicator say something more than three. Thanx again for being so patient, and I'll see you at the next installment.  
  


The Writer-Man:  
  


$Blue Mage$   
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



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